Of Eagle and Lion
by Knife Hand
Summary: In an act of desperation, a young Harry Potter's magic goes wild and gives him something that will change everything. Chapter 5 up
1. Chapter 1

Title: Of Eagle and Lion

Author: Knife Hand

Feedback: Constructive feedback appreciated, flames unappreciated

Spoilers: None.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione, or Luna, or Ginny, or Cho, or... I would buy them all but I am broke.

Summary: In an act of desperation, a young Harry Potter's magic goes wild and gives him something that will change everything.

* * *

Harry was running, but then it was unusual for him not to be running when he was not in class or in the cupboard under the stairs that was his bedroom. As per usual he was being chased by his cousin Dudley, a pig of a boy who scarcely seemed capable of chasing anyone, and Dudley's gang, who did most of the actual chasing. After seven years of running away from Dudley and the fat boy's gang, Harry had become rather good at it. Unfortunately this time the gang had split up, with two now rounding the corner in front of him and another two closed on his heels.

'If only I knew how to fight.' Harry thought desperately, knowing he was now trapped.

There is one thing to note about Harry Potter. Well, two things. One is that he had great survival instincts. Living with his relatives he never would have made it to age seven without those. The second, and more important in this particular instance, is that Harry Potter was a Wizard, not that he knew that.

Magic, by its very nature is a paradox. On one hand it is very primal and run by the subconscious, with basic need and intent being vital to the flow of magic, particularly in early childhood when the magical core of the Witch or Wizard has yet to stabilise. On the other it can provide very predicable results. If two Wizards both conjured a white rose, those roses would be identical, despite whatever intent or imagery the individual Wizard had in mind. Most Magicals overlooked this uniformity of result and in fact it was the Muggles who, in the early decades of the twenty-first century, would come up with the explanation for something the Wizards had been doing for centuries. Another interesting thing about magic is that it is often able to fill in the blanks from partial information or use things that the user was not consciously aware of.

The reason this is relevant is that as Harry Potter had his desperate thought, his magic sensed the danger and went wild. Sensing his need, and following the thread of a conversation between two boys nearby, that Harry himself had not registered give his predicament, Harry's magic broke through the blocks, both the natural ones Harry had developed unconsciously to control his core and the artificial ones that had been placed on him years before, and it made two changes that would have major ramifications. One was the appearance of a number of items in the cupboard under the stairs of number 4 Privet Drive. The other was within the mind of one Harry James Potter.

One second Harry was standing, panting, waiting for the inevitable beating, the next his entire posture had changed and he was on the move. Harry stepped towards the two closets goons, those who had rounded the corner, and grabbed one by his outstretched arm. A sharp jerk had him bent over in pain followed by a quick knee to the solar plexus and he was out of the fight, but Harry used him as a springboard to support his weight as he did a high, side kick to the second boy's nose, which broke with a satisfying crunch but did not push up into the boys brain due to the careful angle of the blow, and both goons collapsed to the ground as Harry turned to face the two charging goons.

These two boys were still running at Harry, what had happened to their compatriots had not yet registered, when Harry charged them. He slipped to the left of the fist goon and quickly snapped out a kick that connected with the boy's stomach, literally bending the boy over at the point of impact, which was quickly followed by a precision strike to the base of the neck. The next boy had his arms low, so Harry slipped behind him, using an arm to the upper body for stabilisation and stomped hard on the weak point at the back of the knee, causing the boy fall in pain and unable to get up with his now unresponsive leg.

Then Dudley rounded the far corner. In a matter of seconds Harry had disabled four boys who were all larger than him by a significant margin. Dudley was not the smartest tool in the shed, but even he realised that Harry had ripped through his gang, and did the only thing his brain could think of. Run away from Harry and to his father to tell him that the 'Boy' had done something weird.

* * *

Harry was locked into the cupboard under the stairs the moment he got back to 4 Privet Drive, and seeing as it was Friday, he fully expected to spend the entire weekend in the cupboard. Having flicked on the naked overhead bulb, Harry surveyed the cupboard. When considered carefully, it was still a tiny space but for a cupboard under the stairs it was quite large. It ran lengthways the entire length of the strait stairs, probably close to four meters, and there was no divider to smooth out the stairs, which made for some sharp corners but provided a decent overhead space for most of the room, and a nice little alcove at the lower end for his bed.

The one unusual feature of the cupboard was that it was actually wider than the stairs above were, by about 6 inches. Not a lot of space but every millimetre helped. Apart from the blankets at the smallest end of the room, the only items in the room were a large trunk, just small enough to fit through the cupboard door and be able to be moved around but large enough to hold a significant amount, and a large duffle bag.

Both the trunk and the duffle had the same thing stencilled on the side. "Cadian 122nd I.R." on the first line and a sixteen digit serial number underneath. Harry smiled as he walked over and opened the trunk. In the top of the trunk was a tray, about six inches deep. It held mostly clothes, tan pants, tan shirts, undergarments, two pair of tan boots (lying on their side), and in a small section two small metal items. The first was a set of dog tags, witch had the same serial number as on the trunk imprinted on one side and the image of a winged skull on the other. The second item was also on a chain to go around his neck, but it was a small, golden two headed eagle, one head facing forward and the other backwards, with its wings outstretched.

"Oh thank the Emperor." Harry whispered when he saw the golden Aquila.

He sighed with relief when he put both the dog tags and the Aquila around his neck.

With the icon of his new faith in place and knowing that he would be stuck in the cupboard all weekend, Harry took a high energy ration pack from the trunk and began to eat. Once the food settled he began a confined space work out developed over a long time by Guardsmen in the confines of the Imperial Troop Carriers during Warp transit. After all, one could not fight the enemies of the Emperor, and humanity, in the Imperial Guard if one was not fit.

* * *

Monday had come and Harry was sitting in his first period classroom waiting patiently for school to start. He had jogged the entire way to school, thus making him one of the first to arrive. The door to the class opened and two students entered. The boy made his way to the back of the classroom and sat sullenly in his chair, the girl stood looking at Harry for a moment then made her way over to him. She was not one of the popular girls, with dark rusty brown hair and pail blue eyes, she always seemed to fade into the crowd.

"Good morning." She said. "Mary Saxon."

"Harry Potter." He replied, curious as to why she was talking to him.

"I saw what you did on Friday." She said. "With Dudley and his gang."

"And?" Harry replied cautiously, mentally raising his guard.

"Oh!" Mary replied, realising how her comment could have been taken. "I'm not going to tell on you or anything. They don't like me either. I just wanted to know how you beat them up… which was brilliant by the way."

"The Emperor protects." Harry replied.

Mary grabbed the chair from the table next to Harry and turned it to face him before sitting down.

"Who is the Emperor? Is he related to the Queen?" she asked, with the curiosity only a child can achieve.

"The Emperor is the guardian and spiritual protector of humanity, entombed in the Golden Throne of Terra after he was betrayed by his favoured son Horus. It is by his will alone that we are protected from the Deamons and forces of Chaos." Harry replied. "It is every human's duty to honour and serve in his name."

"Tell me more." Mary whispered when he paused.

But by this time most of the rest of the class had arrived and the door opened to admit the teacher.

"Meet me this afternoon." Harry said.

"Okay." Mary replied before heading to her usual desk.

'Looks like we have a potential convert.' Harry thought before paying attention to the teacher.

* * *

A small part of Harry's mind realised that he was dreaming, but as was the nature of dreams that realisation did not change anything. What was of concern to Harry was that these were more that simple dreams… they were memories. And they were not the memories of Harry James Potter. They were the memories of Sergeant Marcus William Blackstone of Cadia. Or more accurately snippets of the Sergeant's memories.

*FLASH*

Standing in ranks on the first day of Whiteshield Conscript training at age Sixteen. The two thousand new trainees in his Whiteshield Company standing at attention, only one of thousands of new Whiteshield Companies being formed on that day. Looking out the corner of his eye at the sixteen year old Brown haired girl standing next to him. Cadia was a Fortress World, everyone was conscripted into the Whiteshields at age sixteen and then into either a Planetary Defence Force or Imperial Guard Regiment at age Eighteen. As the old saying went, 'Any Cadian who can't field-strip his own Lasgun by the age of ten was born on the wrong planet'.

*FLASH*

Lying in his bunk, a simple trooper, in the troop transport as they boosted away from Cadia. The Cadian 122nd Infantry Regiment had been Re-Founded, an old and solid Regiment with fine traditions. It did not have the glory of some of the other Regiments, like the 8th 'The Lord Castellan's Own', but the 'Guardians' Regiment had always been one of the most dependable. The rest of his squad was puttering around the barracks, the Sergeant over at the small desk by the door. Only two of the members of his Whiteshield Company were in his squad, and he only knew one of them. Magritte, the girl he had stood next to on the first day of training, who had been in his Whiteshield squad, who had been a fast and firm friend. Who was right now emerging from the showers, dressed only in a towel.

*FLASH*

He squeezed the trigger and another Greenskin went down, only to get back up a second later and the fall again, this time for good, as his second shot went through the Orc's eye and into its brain. He quickly stepped down off the defensive embankment's firing step to avoid the hale of inaccurate but still potentially deadly return fire from the Greenskins. In a smooth motion he ejected the spent power cell and slapped a new one into the Lasgun. The heavy sound of the Autocannon and Heavy Bolter emplacements opened up, chewing into the charging ranks of Greenskins. He stepped back up and began firing at the oncoming horde. Aim and squeeze. Aim and squeeze. Then suddenly the charging Orcs were gone, most of them dead but a few running back to their own lines.

Five years of constant war against the Greenskins had taught all of the 122nd valuable lessons on how to fight the Greenskins, those that had survived. First lesson learnt, the Orcs would be back.

Magritte checked her Lasgun as she settled down close beside him. The lull continued for a brief period as the 122nd and the Elysian 73rd, who we also assigned to this stretch of trench, began to relax. The he heard it. A 'Snickt' sound. A millisecond later the sound registered.

"Kommandos!" he shouted. (AN: no, that is not a spelling mistake)

By that time the knife had already left the bushes and was rotating end over end until…

Harry awoke with a start, almost sitting up and slamming his head against the ceiling of his low sleeping alcove. After almost three and a half years, the nightmares of Marcus' life still haunted Harry, although not as frequently as they once had. Ironically it was Marcus' unwavering Faith in the Emperor and the Imperial Saints, primarily Saint Sabbat, which had allowed Harry to deal with the psychological damage.

There had also been some positive physical changes thanks to the Imperial Guard training. Harry was no longer a small, skinny boy who looked like a stiff breeze would knock him over. He was not a hulking boy with masses of muscles either. He was a good two inches taller than he would have been and had a lean but well defined physique of one with a body trained to optimum efficiency.

Laying back down on his bedroll, Harry tried to get to sleep. There were only a few days until the end of School and his eleventh birthday was also approaching.

* * *

Harry sat on the teacher's desk in the classroom. School had finished almost an hour ago but Harry and a small group stayed behind.

"By the grace of the Emperor." Harry said, finishing the Imperial Pray.

"By the grace of the Emperor." The others in the room echoed.

There were seven others besides Harry in the room, all now Imperialists. First, foremost and most devout was the former wallflower Mary Saxon, who had arranged for her Goldsmith uncle to make Imperial Aquila pendants for the entire group. Sitting in the back corner of the room there were also two Cheerleaders and the Soccer Captain from the attached high school. Sitting off to one side, in front of the older teens, was a thirteen year old boy, who's older sister was one of the Cheerleaders, who had stumbled into one of the meetings once and stayed, eventually convincing his sister and her cheerleader friend to join. The fourth grade English teacher sat on the other side of the room to the teens, constantly fiddling with his Aquila pendant. The last member present was Mary's younger brother, only nine years old, who sat with his sister. There was another Imperial Convert, but they had transferred out to another school the year before.

"I have an announcement." Harry said as everyone settled from the prayer. "Come the new school year, I will be transferred to another school. Stonewall apparently."

Everyone muttered, unhappy at that announcement.

"Quiet. In my absence, I have decided that the congregation needs a new leader. I hereby appoint Mary Saxon to be Confessor of the Ecclesiarch." Harry announced.

Mary sat shocked until her baby brother gave her a nudge.

"If I'm a Confessor, what does that make you? Cardinal?" She asked as got her hand shaken by Harry and then they both made the sign of the Aquila.

"Hardly. I am, and will always be, Guard." He replied. "Think you up for a sermon, Confessor?"

* * *

"Boy, breakfast." Vernon called, a nervous edge in his voice.

Harry finished the close order drill with the Lasgun in the backyard of number 4, before wiping himself down with a towel and heading inside. Harry was dressed in tan cargo pants and a light green tank top with boots on, as he walked in and leant the unloaded Lasgun, which was almost as tall as he was, against the wall and sat down for breakfast. His relatives, particularly Vernon and Dudley, had large portions of bacon, eggs, mushrooms and toast for breakfast. Harry's breakfast, buy his own wishes, was more balanced and nutritional, including fruits, cereal and juice.

Things had changed when Harry was nine. Vernon and Dudley had pushed him to far one day and he had introduced them to his Guard issued Bayonet. No one had been hurt, which was quite a show of skill on Harry's part as he demonstrated the proper procedure for skinning game using Vernon's shirt as an example… while his Uncle had been wearing it. Now, though he was not treated like a member of the family, he was no longer locked in the Cupboard for long stretches nor physically bullied.

Harry ate in silence, while his relatives made small talk amongst themselves, ignoring his presence. As he was finishing Harry heard the mail come through the mail slot. He rose, put his dishes in the sink, collected his Lasgun and left the kitchen. After storing the Lasgun, he checked them mail.

"Bill. Bill. Oh, sale on Hiking boots. Bill." Harry said idly as he walked back to the kitchen with the mail. "Vernon. Bill. Petunia. Dudley's grades. My grades. Oh, one for me. What the Emperor is Hogwarts?"

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Of Eagle and Lion

Author: Knife Hand

Feedback: Constructive feedback appreciated, flames unappreciated

Spoilers: None.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione, or Luna, or Ginny, or Cho, or... I would buy them all but I am broke.

Summary: In an act of desperation, a young Harry Potter's magic goes wild and gives him something that will change everything.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall sighed. One more trip to go. As Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts she had a lot of important duties, but one of the most arduous and, on occasion, interesting duties was to take the new Muggleborn students for their first trip to Diagon Alley. Now the only ones left to escort were a Miss Granger and Harry Potter.

'Now that was an argument to remember.' She thought, as she Apperated to the Granger residence.

Headmaster Dumbledore had wanted to send the Groundskeeper Hagrid to collect Harry. Hagrid was a friendly bloke, but not someone to entrust with this kind of responsibility. True to her Scottish heritage, she had let the Headmaster know that it was her duty and she would perform it or he would regret it.

The meeting with the Granges went well and soon she was escorting young Miss Granger, letting her Side-along Apperate to Privet Driver.

"You'll feel better in a second, dear." She said to the decidedly green looking young Witch, as she appraised the street.

In ten years nothing had changed. They walked up to Number 4 and she knocked. The boy who answered the door was not what she expected. Oh, she instantly recognised him as Harry Potter, with his father's looks and his mother's eyes, but there were drastic differences. Unlike his father's wild hair, Harry's was cut very short, the back and sides were only a centimetre or so long and the fringe was only a few centimetres, leaving his forehead and the famous scar exposed. His eyes were hard, with little of the warmth she so remembered in dear Lily's and no glasses.

"Mister Potter. My name is Professor McGonagall, I am here…" She began.

"Yes Ma'am. Supplies. I will be right with you." Harry replied, before turning sharply about on the spot.

He ducked into the cupboard under the stairs and emerged less than a minute later. He was now dressed in long tan cargo pants, a tan shirt and a black jacket. As he emerged his hands seemed to automatically check something at his waist and under his left arm.

"I'm leaving." He called to someone inside the house, before turning to the Professor. "Ready, Ma'am."

"Hi. I'm Hermione Granger." the young Witch said.

"Se… Harry Potter." The boy replied simply.

"Both of you take my hand." Minerva said, earning a sideways look from Harry and a queasy look from Hermione.

Once they both held her hand she Apperated.

* * *

"Urgh, that was not fun." Harry groaned, looking around where the Professor had taken them.

It was an alley, normal and slightly dirty. Harry was suddenly glad he had gotten contacts last year. Loosing his glasses in a transition like that could be deadly.

"I don't like it either." The girl, Hermione, added.

"You'll get used to it." The Professor said. "It's perfectly safe."

"Yeah, that's what they said about the Teleportarium until Weston got turned inside out." Harry muttered to himself. "Messy."

Out of habit he checked the combat knife at his hip, sheathed inside his pants, and the laspistol in its shoulder holster, as the Professor lead them out onto the main street and along into a dingy pub that most people did not seem to notice. The pub, called the Leaky Cauldron, was sparsely populated with strangely dressed people.

"Another pair of youngen's?" the bar tender asked as the Professor walked through.

"No Tom. I'm training Midgets to take over Hogwarts." The Professor said, sarcastically.

"Blimey, it's Harry Potter." One of the patrons said, staring at Harry.

Harry automatically fell into a combat stance as the patrons rushed in, which was hampered by Hermione scuttling behind him and burying her face into his back, scared. This meant he had no room to manoeuvre.

"All of you. Back off right now." The Professor said sternly. "You are scaring Miss Granger."

The crowd backed off, most of them former pupils of Professor McGonagall, and the others knowing her by reputation.

'Worse than a Liberation Celebration.' Harry thought idly.

Then the Professor led them out into Diagon Alley.

* * *

This was the last stop of the day. Bank, done. School Uniforms, done. Potions ingredients, done. School Books, done. Dragging Hermione out of bookstore, done. Magical Chest, done.

Now they were getting their Wands. Hermione was matched fairly easily. The fourth wand she tried had reacted positively to her. Harry himself was a completely different story. They had been here almost an hour and he had tried almost every wand in the shop. Only two were left. Both Hermione and the Professor were sitting by the front window now intrigued as to what wand he would get.

"Holly, Phoenix Feather, Eleven Inches. Nice and Supple." The Wandmaker, Ollivander, said.

The Professor sat up slightly more with interest. Harry gave it a wave and nothing happened. With a shrug he put it back down.

"Unusual. Well this is my last Wand. Alder, Thestral Hair and Tail Feather from the Italian Two-Headed Eagle, Ten Inches. Sturdy." The Wandmaker said.

"Aquila." Harry whispered as he reached for the wand.

The instant his hand wrapped around the wand it started to glow. It felt good in his hand. Familiar, like his Lasgun.

* * *

"Harry!"

He turned, recognising the voice, and waved to Hermione and her Parents as they emerged through the billowing steam around the Hogwarts Express.

"Mum, Dad. This is Harry." Hermione said, introducing her new friend.

"Sir. Ma'am." Harry said simply, nodding to Mr Granger. "Hermione, we should really embark."

Harry lifted his trunk onto the train and then proceeded to lift Hermione's trunk as well.

"The boy's a trooper." Mr Granger said, after they had disappeared inside the train.

"Yes, he's very brave coming here alone." Mrs Granger replied.

"No, I mean he is a Soldier."

Mr Granger was a retired Army Captain and he had recognised a fellow soldier. Mrs Granger looked at her husband in surprise until Hermione leant out the window and waved as the train pulled out.

* * *

Hermione felt blissfully guilty. She had her feet tucked up under her on the seat of the Hogwarts Express. Sure she had kicked off her shoes and tucked them under the seat, but still this was probably the biggest guilty pleasure in so far in her life. Harry was the only other person in this cabin, and he had locked the door once they were inside. While enjoying the feeling of being naughty, Hermione also watched Harry in rapt fascination as he moved up and down the narrow passage.

Step. Short little step and strike. Step and double strike. Pause. Double high strike, backwards step and a downward strike while moving. Reverse of direction without stepping and a crossways strike.

"That's amazing." Hermione said after almost an hour.

"Want to learn?" Harry asked.

Harry finished his Kata with a sideways high blow with his left hand and a sweeping move with his right hand which held his wand in a reverse grip with about two thirds out the bottom of his hand. It took Hermione a second to realise that the wand represented a knife.

"Are you sure?" Hermione replied.

Harry nodded as she got up. Harry held out his hand and told her to strike it. Hermione curled her fist and punched like she had seen on TV. In a fast move, Harry dropped the target hand and grabbed her extended wrist in a firm yet gentle grip.

"Never punch like that. You can do serious damage to your hand." Harry said.

He turned over her hand, opening her fist.

"Strike with an open palm hitting with this part here at the base." He said, running his fingers over the fleshy pad that ran across the base of the palm from the bottom of the thumb to the other side of the palm. "If you do use a fist then use this part."

This time he ran his fingers on the outside of the palm below the little finger. This contact, although innocent, caused Hermione to blush. For most of the rest of the train ride, Harry showed Hermione a basic stance and a few basic strikes.

* * *

Harry and Hermione shared the boar ride across the lake, lead by a giant of a man called Hagrid, with a girl called Susan Bones and a boy called Neville Longbottom. The first year students were congregated at the top of the stairs that lead up from the lake when a blonde haired boy made a nuisance of himself.

"So, the rumours are true. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts." The blonde boy said.

"Were you taught to state the obvious, or had the bleach killed all of your brain cells?" Harry replied.

"My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. You'll learn that some Wizarding families are better than others. I can help you with that." The blonde said.

"I am a servant of the Emperor, and none other." Harry responded, getting totally confused looks from all the other first years. "Any who ignores that fact will learn they are wrong. Painfully."

A few seconds later Professor McGonagall entered from the Great Hall, and proceeded to first give her speech on the four Houses, and then lead the First Years into the Great Hall. They walked down the central of the Hall and stood in front of a stool and an old hat, which started to sing. Harry waited while others were being sorted. Susan Bones, the girl they had shared the boat with, was sorted into Hufflepuff. Neville and Hermione were both sorted into Gryffindor, while the arrogant Blond, Malfoy, was sorted into Slytherin.

"Harry Potter." Professor McGonagall called, after a set of Indian Twins.

Harry stepped forward formally as if walking to post, sat on the stool and had the Sorting Hat placed on his head.

"Interesting" The sorting hat said, to which only Harry could hear. "This certainly explains a lot, like the sorting last year."

Harry saw an image of a familiar face flash through his mind.

"So she's here?" Harry thought back at hat.

"Yes. She became convinced I was a conduit of the Emperor. I have a feeling I will meet him one day." The Hat replied.

"You really think you will. I guess he could have started at a Wizard." Harry considered.

"Maybe, maybe not. It's just a feeling. I once had a feeling that the Headmaster would get pants in front of the entire school. Hasn't happened yet."

Harry chuckled to himself at the Hat's comment.

"So, where are you going to sort me?" Harry said after a moment.

"Strait to the point. Typical Guardsman." The Hat joked. "Brave, Tactical Genius, Loyal and Determined. Oh how the founders would have fought over getting to teach you. But let's be honest, there is only one house for an Imperial Guardsman, by the Emperor."

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Hat shouted to the Hall.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Of Eagle and Lion

Author: Knife Hand

Feedback: Constructive feedback appreciated, flames unappreciated

Spoilers: None.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione, or Luna, or Ginny, or Cho, or... I would buy them all but I am broke.

Summary: In an act of desperation, a young Harry Potter's magic goes wild and gives him something that will change everything.

A/N: Ceg, Firstly as I see it, most Imperial Citizens and even Imperial Guard are generally not that familiar with Psykers unless they have direct interactions with a Psyker (or are part of the Commissariat). The Ecclesiarch and their Ordos Militant generally deal with Rogue Psykers and protect the knowledge by killing off anyone who learns too much, so it is likely that your average Guardsman who have never fought besides Sanctioned Psykers or faced Chaos Sorcerers would not even be familiar with Psychic abilities or ever associate that with Magicals. Also I think you are thinking of Sergeant **Bastonne** from the Codex. I selected Blackstone as a suitable Cadian surname but no, he is not the named character from the Imperial Guard Codex.

* * *

The Gryffindor common room was a bustle. One of the Prefects, a redhead by the name of Percy, was giving the first years a speech about where the dorms were located. A number of the older students were milling around the stairs all of them trying to get to their dorm rooms and were in effect creating a traffic jam, while others were spaced around the common room, either standing in groups of friends chatting about their holidays or, in a few cases, sitting in the collection of comfortable chairs watching the pandemonium. This last group consisted of a set of identical redheaded twins sitting in a pair of armchairs off to one side and, on a three seater couch by the fire place, three girls who looked like they were in their second and third years, one of whom had ebony skin.

When the Prefect had finished his speech, the first years dispersed. A couple tried joining the now slightly lessened crowd at the stairs. A redhead by the name of Ron went over to the Twins, who seemed to be his brothers, along with the Prefect. Hermione, ever the logical one, went and sat on one of the vacant chairs to wait for the crush at the stairs to clear, and Neville joined her as he had no desire to be caught in the press.

Harry on the other hand approached the three girls who had watched with scarcely veiled amusement the antics of their housemates. As he approached the girl in the middle stood up.

"Sergeant Potter." She said, bowing her head and making the sign of the Aquila.

"I told you before Katie, unless you want to join the Guard, call me Harry." He replied, also making the sign of the Aquila.

"Katie, you know Harry Potter?" the black girl asked.

"Yes Angelina. We went to the same primary school." Katie Bell replied.

"Hey, I'm Angelina Johnson, this is Alicia Spinnet."

"Pleasure to meet you." Harry said politely. "Oh-Six-Hundred for morning Devotions?"

"Of course. We will have to do them in the common room." Katie replied. "And they confiscated my incense and holy oils."

"WHAT?!"

* * *

Harry was sitting fuming at breakfast the next morning. Katie had joined him for silent morning devotions before they had come down for breakfast.

"Mr Potter, you class schedule." Professor McGonagall said.

"Professor, can we please speak in private?" Harry asked, only the iron will of a Veteran Imperial Guardsman keeping the anger out of his voice.

"Of course, Mr Potter. Please give me five minutes to finish handing out schedules and then we will go to my office." The Professor replied.

Harry picked at his breakfast until the Professor returned and then followed her out of the Great Hall and up to her office.

"So, what did you want to talk about Mr Potter?"

"Professor, I understand that a number of items were confiscated from Katie Bell last year." Harry said.

"Yes, I remember that. But what is the relevance?" The Professor asked.

"May I ask why the items were confiscated?" Harry insisted

"Mr Potter, I don't like to be questioned." Professor McGonagall said sternly.

"Professor, I have the same items in my trunk. I need to know why these items were confiscated." Harry replied.

"Very well." McGonagall sighed. "Miss Bell was caught performing ritualistic magic. Mr Filch found her in an abandoned classroom about to perform the ritual. Ritualistic magic is forbidden, mostly because they do not work but the few that do are all extremely dark."

"And did Katie have an opportunity to explain before she was punished and had her possessions taken?" Harry asked again.

"No, it was obvious that she was about to perform ritualistic magic and the rules are clear." The Professor replied. "So as long as you do not perform such then you will not loose your equipment."

"I have one more question Professor." Harry said. "Is religious persecution Hogwarts policy or are all the staff here just intolerant?"

"Excuse me?!" Professor McGonagall almost shouted.

"Katie was not performing Ritualistic Magic. She was performing religious devotions to the Emperor. I know this because I taught her the devotions. What was done was the equivalent of walking up to a Catholic during Mass, stealing and eating all the bread and wine, wiping your mouth with the alter cloth and declaring that Jesus was a fraud." Harry angrily told the Professor. "Now unless you want it spread all over the papers and an official complaint submitted of Religious persecution, I require that Katie's belongings be returned, she is given a formal apology for the confiscation, a space near the Great Hall will be provided for our religious ceremonies which will be open to all and a secured location is provided where I can train and safely secure weapons, which is part of my religious doctrine. And I want it done by the end of the day or you will be explaining why the Boy-Who-Lived left Hogwarts in under twenty-four hours and was never heard from again by the Wizarding world."

Without giving the professor a chance to respond, Harry stood up and left the office.

* * *

"Headmaster, we have a serious problem." Professor McGonagall said as she walked into Dumbledore's office.

"So what is this problem? Lemon Drop?" Dumbledore replied holding out the tray of sweets to his deputy.

"Mr Potter is threatening a charge of Religious Persecution." The deputy Headmistress replied.

The silence that followed was only broken by the shattering of the sweet tray and the sound of the Lemon Drops scattering across the desk.

Religious Persecution was one of the two oldest, and most reviled, crimes in Wizarding Culture. Anyone found guilty would be shunned and have a kill on site order issued in every Wizarding community in the world. The whole reason the Wizarding World went underground in the first place was to escape religious persecution. The other crime, centuries older, which also had the same punishment was 'Theft of Line'.

The Theft of Line charge prevented 'the unconsenting union of two Magicals which results in either the production of a child by the offending party which under normal circumstances would inherit a significant status within a Magical Family (Magical Family being deemed to include those of existing lineage or among the emergent families), or the dishonour and disinheritance of the innocent party who otherwise may one day have inherited a significant status within a Magical Family'. This law was so ancient that all but a few of the oldest Magical Families would be considered an 'emergent family'. This was one of the reasons why there were so few cases of Rape in the Magical World, because any rape could also result in a Theft of Line charge. This was also why 'Muggle-born' or First Generation Witches were not sexually abused by the Pureblood supremacists, many of whom in their minds saw such witches as less than human, as all First Generation Witches and Wizards are protected under this law as the Head of their Family.

"What does he want?" Dumbledore asked with a sigh, hoping that the demands were not too extreme.

Hearing the terms Dumbledore sighed again. The public apology would be a massive blow to staff credibility, but it could have been much worse.

"Let Mr Potter know he has a deal. Tell Argus to return Miss Bell's belongings and publicly apologise at dinner this evening. Also arrange for a full staff meeting, we will need to inform them of the new development." Dumbledore said, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

"I will also inform Mr Potter that he should prepare a briefing document which contains areas where activities or staff instructions may conflict with his Religion, and see if any area may impede educational requirements. In the mean time, Miss Bell and Mr Potter should inform any staff if one of these areas of… sensitivity are raised." McGonagall replied before leaving the Headmaster to his work, and his spilled candy.

* * *

Harry sat in his first Potions Class, with Hermione sitting next to him at the workbench. Professor Snape swept in, trying to look menacing. For his part he did a fair job of scaring most of the students in the class. But not someone who knows what it feels like to face down a horde of screaming Orcs, watched thousands of soldiers die under a swarm of Tau Missiles or to see the unrestrained, brutal and deadly efficiency of the Space Marines as they tear through defences that had withstood thousands of Imperial Guardsmen and hundreds of Leman Russ Battle Tanks and Basilisk Siege Artillery Guns. After all that a greasy haired guy, with pail skin and a big nose, in flowing black robes is just not that intimidating. Emperor, most Guard Sergeants are scarier that that.

"Put away your wands. There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class." Snape began.

Harry tuned him out, noting though that Hermione was copying his words down verbatim, until he heard his name.

"Mr. Potter. Our new celebrity. Tell me, what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?" Snape sneered

"Nothing Sir. They are the same plant, also called Aconite. While highly poisonous it is also quite useful, correctly administered, as a pain killer."

Snape grunted. Harry had read that in one of his Muggle books on herbs.

"Where would you look if I told you to find me a Bezoar?" Snape asked.

"Probably in your supply cabinet, Sir. But if we were in the field, the stomach of a Goat. Less effective Bezoars can also be found in the stomach of Lamas, Gazelle's and, for specific poisons, the stomach of a Platypus."

Everyone, even Hermione, stared at him for that one. The text book only said about the Goat. It's amazing what you can learn from enthusiastic Magical Biologists who are all pleased to meet you, have had one too many pints and are trying to out do each other.

"And what would you get if you added Powdered Rood of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?" Snape growled out, and all eyes shifted to Harry.

"Me? Probably a boiling mess and potentially a destroyed cauldron because this is my first Potions lesson and that recipe is not covered anywhere in the first year potions textbook that you assigned us, Sir." Harry calmly replied.

Snape simply turned and walked to the blackboard. Most of the Gryffindors and some of the Slytherins chuckled softly. Hermione just stared at him in awe. He had been completely respectful while making a teacher look like an idiot. This was a thing unheard of in Hermione's world.

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Of Eagle and Lion

Author: Knife Hand

Feedback: Constructive feedback appreciated, flames unappreciated

Spoilers: None.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione, or Luna, or Ginny, or Cho, or... I would buy them all but I am broke.

Summary: In an act of desperation, a young Harry Potter's magic goes wild and gives him something that will change everything.

A/N: Robert-19588, This will not be one of those fics where Harry is actually a Lord, everybody is stealing from him, Dumbledore is specifically and intentionally screwing up his life and Hermione's Folks are going to play a huge role (for things along those lines please see my other works such as Code of the Griffin and Trailbreaking). This story is how an Imperial Guardsman and the Imperial Faith would interact with and shift the perceptions of the Wizarding World. As for Hedwig, no. Harry does not have Hedwig at the moment. For several reasons.

* * *

Hermione slowly ate her lunch as she watched Harry and Katie talking about their Imperial friends from back in Surry. Alicia and Angelina had joined them at the table mostly because Katie had made a b-line for Harry the instant she had arrived. To Hermione, based on her admittedly limited understanding of him, it seemed as if Harry was in a good mood.

The double potions class had gone as well as could be expected, given Snape's entrance and his reputation. After the question assault on Harry at the beginning of the class, Snape had simply written some instructions on the board and glared at the class the whole time.

What had really perked Harry up, in Hermione's opinion, was the small scrap of parchment that Professor McGonagall had given to Harry at the start of lunch. Harry had read the note with a smile.

Alicia and Angelina had tried to engage Hermione in conversation but, unlike the older girls, she was primarily focused on learning rather that other 'girly' pursuits or Quidditch. While Hermione was probably one of the most scholastic and intelligent girls in the entire school, the argument could be made that she was smarter even than the Headmaster, very few people stopped to wonder why she was sorted into Gryffindor, home of the brave, rather than Ravenclaw, which valued knowledge over all else. The answer was simple. Hermione did not covert knowledge for knowledge's sake. She lived by one very simple motto. 'Knowledge is Power' and she had sworn to herself, when the Hogwarts letter came, that she would never be Powerless again. Not after what happened in her primary school. Not after….

"Where are you going?" Alicia asked, pulling Hermione out of her introspection.

"Transfiguration Class." Harry replied, stacking his books in a pile.

"But class does not start for another twenty minutes." Angelina had added.

"Rule six, always be where you need to when you need to. Rule eight, always plan for delays. Rule two, early is on time, on time is late and late is dead." Harry replied.

"Wait up." Hermione said, stacking her books in a hurry. "I'm coming with you."

Fifteen minutes later Hermione understood why Harry had left so early. They had gotten lost twice and run into Peeves the Poltergeist once forcing them to make a detour. When they entered the Transfiguration Classroom, they noticed a cat sitting on the teacher's desk. Hermione went and sat down near the front of the class while Harry stared at the cat for a second. Then he saluted the cat before taking his seat next to Hermione.

"It's the Professor." He whispered, and then added at her glance. "Just wait and see."

Most of the class arrived with one minute to spare but Ron Weasley was late.

"Made it." He panted as he slipped inside the door. "Imagine the look on old McGonagall's face if she knew I was late."

Hermione saw Harry hide his face in his palm in embarrassment as the cat jumped off the desk and morphed into the Professor, who proceeded to dress down Ron. After Ron sheepishly found his seat, the Professor gave a stern warning about not taking the class seriously, as if Hermione would ever do otherwise, and then set them to turning matchsticks into needles. Hermione had taken notes on the Professors lesson, but when she looked over at Harry's there was quite a bit more. There was a brief summary of what the Professor had spoken about, but there were other notations and reminders. Such as 'matchstick to needle – density manipulation? Where does extra density come from?' and 'cat to human – massive volume differential yet weight seems appropriate to form – not Newtonian, Relativistic doubtful - check Quantum Physics?' and then adjacent to that note but at a different angle 'Two forms - Quantum Entanglement?'

Hermione boggled at the notations. Hermione had of course studied well ahead in the regular sciences before her Hogwarts letter had arrived, so she had heard of Quantum Physics, a new field examining the sub atomic world where, it appeared, the rules of the old Newtonian and Relativistic Physics did not always apply. But even to her these were vague and confusing concepts that were way above her head, and here was Harry Potter comparing their first day's Transfiguration to these strange advanced concepts (a conclusion Hermione herself otherwise would have come to on her own five year later). The conclusion she came to at that moment was, no matter what he did, Harry Potter was intelligent and inquisitive, even if he tried to hide it.

* * *

Harry took one last look around the newly stocked armoury, making sure that everything was in its place. There was a variety of weapons and equipment that Marcus Blackstone had accumulated in his military Career. On armour racks against one wall were two sets of Flack Armour, with the armoured chest and back plat with attached shoulder guards and helmets, and a single set of the Carapace Armour, with segmented plates that covered one from head to toe. On the other walls were the weapons. Two Lasguns, several combat knives, a combat Shotgun, a Meltagun, an Astartes issued Flamer, a Chainsword, a Power Sword, a Laspistol, a Bolt pistol, a number of Frag and Krak grenades, two Meltabombs, a Cammocloak and a Long Las.

Every weapon had a story, a milestone in Marcus' career. The Carapace Armour given to him after that first campaign against the Orcs which so decimated the 122nd that the eighteen surviving troopers of the once three thousand strong Regiment got split into two Veteran squads, one commanded by himself, the other by Sergeant Marlina Richter. The Shotgun taken from an abandoned Arbites Headquarters during a civil revolt. The Meltagun pulled from a dead Guardsman's hands and use to kill a rampaging Carnifex. The Power Sword and Bolt Pistol taken from the corpse of a much hated Commissar. The Cammocloak a gift from a much loved Colonel-Commissar and the Long Las a gift from his best marksman. The Flamer granted as a gift from a Librarian when his Veteran Squad had counter-ambushed some Orcs that had pinned down a squad of Space Marines and their Librarian.

An entire lifetime's worth of memories, but the second Lasgun and second set of Flack Armour held the deepest attachment. The two items that had never saw use after they came into Marcus' possession. Harry gently ran his hand down the breastplate of the second set of Flack Armour. A breastplate that had not been made for use by a male.

Hearing a knock at the door, Harry exited the Armoury, making sure to lock it after him.

"It's time." Katie said as he entered the corridor.

Katie, like Harry, was dressed in simple robes, but nothing like the Wizarding Robes of the school uniform. These were much more like simple Kimono's. The Armoury was located at the end of an out of the way corridor on the ground floor of the castle that was still fairly close to both the Great Hall and the new Chapel. When they arrived at the Chapel, Harry was unsurprised to find that the chapel was mostly full, with students of all ages from all houses, although there were less Slytherins there that any of the other houses, and several members of staff. After Filtch's public apology at dinner the previous night and the announcement of the new Chapel there was a great deal of interest in what this new 'Imperial' thing was all about. As Harry took the lectern and everyone quietened down, Harry noticed Snape glaring at him from the back of the room. In all honesty, Harry would be surprised if more than one in twenty of those attending this first service would ever enter the Chapel again.

"The Emperor Protects. That is one of our core beliefs. But what does this mean? What is expected in return for this protection? And what does he protect us from?" Harry began.

He noticed several faces had taken on a keen look of interest. Some had come expecting a fiery sermon with Hell and damnation. Others had come expecting a list of do's and don'ts. No one expected what was to come. Especially not from the Famous Boy-Who-Lived.

"He protects us from Chaos, from the slow corruption of our bodies, minds and Souls. He protects us from things beyond comprehension, outside of space and beyond time. And what does he ask in return? He asks us to serve humanity, to the best of our abilities. To the Emperor it is no less noble for a member of the Administratum to serve by ensuring rules are up held than it is for a member of the Imperial Guard to lay down their life on a battle field. No less honourable for an Apothecary to heal the sick than for an Arbites to uphold the law in the streets."

Harry paused to survey the crowd. He now saw confusion, contemplation and down right hostility. Snape seemed contemplative.

"An individual's virtuous labours, be they a great Hero on the battle field or a simple clerk, should be praised in the moment for their service to the Emperor and Humanity, but once the moment passes, so too must the praise and their next endeavour must be judged the same as all others, based solely on the merits of the act not the history of the person, without fear of favour, pride nor envy. Through these actions we praise him. For these actions he protects us."

Harry then lit some incense and began a Holy Benediction in High Gothic, one that only Katie could understand.

Most of the Slytherins in the audience, particularly the Pureblood Supremacists, now looked at him with either fear, hostility or both. Particularly Draco Malfoy, who had only come to mock Harry. This one speech represented a multi-pronged attack on the very fabric of Wizarding society that the Purebloods relied on.

Firstly it held one accountable for their own actions without the ability to cover things up. Secondly it overturned the notion of the inherent superiority of purebloods and the inferiority of Muggle Borns (or Mudbloods as the Purebloods called them) that was solely based on lineage. And thirdly, and most worryingly to the Purebloods, it was Religious Doctrine and as such could not be openly fought without risking a charge of Religious Persecution.

The service ended and the crowd started to leave. A few students were approaching Katie or Harry to ask questions. These were the most likely first wave converts. Others, Purebloods, were gathering into clusters as they left, one such cluster forming around Draco Malfoy.

Both Harry and most of the Purebloods (some seemed willing to embrace this new view) knew that this meant only one thing. If open warfare was out, then a Guerrilla war was the only option.

Harry and Katie needed to keep the Imperial Cult alive, countering whatever subtle attacks the Purebloods mounted, and grow strong enough to endure and perhaps even alter the Wizarding World.

TBC….


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Of Eagle and Lion

Author: Knife Hand

Feedback: Constructive feedback appreciated, flames unappreciated

Spoilers: None.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione, or Luna, or Ginny, or Cho, or... I would buy them all but I am broke.

Summary: In an act of desperation, a young Harry Potter's magic goes wild and gives him something that will change everything.

AN: 'unanimously anonymous. mostly', here is the response to your review (apologies to those not interested in this long response and please skip to the story).

Point 1 - Firstly the magic did not give him the personality of Sergeant Blackstone, just the memories and skill sets in addition to his own and not in replacement (Blackstone would have killed Harry's relatives without a second thought). Secondly, you are confusing the concepts with the white rose, and you are confusing 'magic's imagination' with the imagination of the magic user. The concept is that Magic uses the imagination and intent of the user to determine what is done, but not always how it is done. As for integration of the two lives – see flashback scene and the fact there is a 4 year gap.

Point 2 – Why a Guardsman? Simple, because anyone can be a Guardsman. I agree that most Guardsmen are not Special Forces but Blackstone was. Firstly Blackstone was Cadian, now in the 40K world Cadia is a Fortress World which constantly gets invaded, so all Cadians are much better trained than regular Guardsman (think the difference between Normal US Army troops and US Army Rangers). On top of that Blackstone is a Veteran. Veterans are those troops who survive some of the toughest fighting around and survive where thousands of others have died. Then they are given specialised additional training, so Guardsmen with Veteran status are Special Forces (like bumping him up from Ranger to Delta Force). Also none of the weapons in the Armoury are 'Rare', and they were all either issued or picked up on the battlefield over a long career of over thirty years. You suggested making him a Psyker – how is that any different than him being a Wizard? The point of this is to do something different.

Point 3 – Religion. You said he becomes a fanatic. How do you figure that? If he was a true Imperial Fanatic he would be forcing everyone around him to convert or die. As for the children coverts – children believe a lot more than most adults would and your comment stating 'I mean, who in his or her right mind would believe a child speaking about some strange Emperor that no one saw or heard of?' – Isn't that the very definition of any religion – belief without proof?

As for the religious persecution – when they were forced underground they all sore never to impose a religious belief on another, it is more a case of 'believe what you want, just don't try to make me believe it too'. As long as it does not impede on anyone else, it is not considered persecution in this context.

You also state 'To make people from around the world to agree unanimously on *anything* is next to impossible.' – incorrect. Everyone in the world agrees on a large number of things, it's just you and everyone else take such things for granted and so do not consider them. What is true is that it impossible to **force** people from around the world to agree on something.

Now back to the story.

* * *

Harry, with Katie's help, finished fastening up the last strap on his dark green Flack Armour, which Katie had used a resizing spell on, over his tan fatigues. Both Katie and Hermione had to help him put on the backpack that was filled with sand, and then he put on his helmet and grabbed his Lasgun, checking that it was not loaded, but still slipped several clips into the pouches on his waist.

"You sure you are both up to this?" Harry asked.

Both Hermione and Katie were dressed in exercise clothes, but each had a loaded but safetied laspistol in a holster at their hip, which Harry had given them basic instruction on.

"Of course." Katie replied.

Harry nodded and they exited the Armoury to begin the physical training run.

After the first sermon, the week had gone without major incident. Charms Class and Astronomy had been interesting, although Harry knew more about some of the stars and the worlds that orbited them than the Professor ever dreamed of. Defence Against the Dark Arts had been a major disappointment, with the stuttering teacher barely able to make himself understood.

On the Imperial front there had been a number of converts. Most notably Hermione, Alicia and Professor Vector. In total ten staff and students had sworn public loyalty to the Emperor, including several Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students. There were another four students who had sworn loyalty, including two Slytherins, who did not want to be publically identified as Imperials because they feared subtle persecution or, in one case, so that they could supply intelligence on the Pureblood Supremacist movement.

The trio made their way out the front doors, doing some warm up stretches as they walked and getting a few stares from the students who where lounging in the front courtyard, enjoying their Saturday mornings out in the sunlight.

"We'll do an easy run today. Round the lake, and cut through the Forrest from the far side and come out around that hut. If you two are up to it we'll do a second lap." Harry said.

The girls looked shocked.

"That's got to be about five miles." Hermione said just above a whisper.

"We'll start out at a jog." Harry said. "Guard qualification trials would be at least five laps in full kit. Let's go."

Harry took off at a jog, holding his Lasgun ready. After a few seconds Katie and Hermione took off after him. Well before the quarter way mark Hermione was struggling with the pace and was breathing heavily, but was determinedly keeping putting one foot in front of the other. Katie was in better physical condition, having spent most of the previous year doing Quidditch practice in her spare time with Alicia and Angelica in the hopes of making the Gryffindor team this year. She made it one third of the way through the course before she began to struggle.

Harry slowly lowered the pace as the run went on, and was impressed with their performance, until they reached the castle courtyard again. When Harry stopped Hermione stumbled into him, unable to stop herself after so long of forcing herself to move, and then sank to the ground in a heap. Katie took a couple steps past Harry and stood there, bent over with her head between her knees panting.

Harry took a look around the students in the courtyard.

"Hey, Yancy!" Harry called out to a sixth year Gryffindor Imperial. "You mind keeping an eye on these two while the catch their breath? Get some water into them."

"No problem." Yancy replied.

"Thanks." Harry said, taking one of the clips off his belt and loading it into the Lasgun. "Girls, you will need to stretch or you risk cramping. I need to finish my PT."

With that Harry took off on the second lap of the circuit, this time at a steady, ground eating pace that was much faster than when they started the first lap. After a few seconds, Katie dropped down next to Hermione and helped the younger girl to begin the stretches.

* * *

"So you are telling me that the only sport played here is this Quidditch, and only seven students from each house get to participate?" Harry said, earning nods from most of his housemates around him at the table in the Great Hall.

"Come on, it is the greatest sport." Angelina said.

"Be that as it may." Harry said. "But given the fact that there are, say, ten students on average per year, per house."

"The upper years average around fifteen to twenty per house." One of the Weasley Twins said. "A few years ago there were about thirty per house per year."

"That would have been the war with Voldermort." Harry replied, getting flinches from the surrounding students. "Now given those stats, less than one in ten students participate in any form of physical activity here at school." Harry replied.

"So what are you suggesting, Mr Potter?" Came Professor McGonagall's voice from behind him.

"Well the simplest thing would be split the Quidditch Competition into Senior and Junior leagues." Harry said, turning to face the Professor. "The juniors would be Second through Fourth Years and the Senior team would be Fifth through Seventh Years. That alone would double the number of students participating. The Junior team could have a larger squad and the players train for all of the positions in training and rotate positions and into reserves from match to match, so that they can see which positions they prefer and have the greatest aptitude for. This would also provide a pool of competent reserves in the Senior league of players who don't want to compete the entire time but are available to replace injuries."

A quick look around showed Harry that everyone around him, even at the Ravenclaw table behind him, was listening to his suggestions.

"And then you could also introduce physical education classes or other sports." He added.

"What other sports?" a Ravenclaw asked. "Quidditch is the only major sport, except for Broom Racing."

"How about Football?" Harry asked. "Or Cricket? Maybe Rugby Union."

"I'd be in on the Football." Shamus and Dean said almost simultaneously, followed closely by another ten Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students who had Muggle parents or were familiar with the Muggle world.

"How about a pickup game?" one asked, getting a general mummer of consent from the interested students.

"Very well. I will raise your suggestions at the next Staff Meeting." McGonagall said, before leaving the students to arrange the pickup game.

TBC….


End file.
